


don't forget me (i wouldnt leave you if you let me)

by Z0otyBo0ty (Pterodactyl_Booty)



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: AND literally one of main characters is already dead, FIRSTLY about the warnings, Ghost dicks, M/M, THAT BEING SAID, Tree Bros, connor's dead, im not good at tagging things, there is NO EXPLICIT RAPE only mentions of rape, theres like two scenes where evan's jackin it and thats it for the smut, uhhhh, warning for the f slur :’(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodactyl_Booty/pseuds/Z0otyBo0ty
Summary: For most of Evan's life, they thought he was schizophrenic. They, being his parents, his family, the doctors. Talking to thin air, giggling at the empty corners of the room, crying when he was made to leave his room and actually go to kindergarten.In which Connor's a ghost and Evan is lonely





	

**Author's Note:**

> hi im jess i wrote this because things were too happy around here. follow my art blog @z00tyb00ty
> 
> title from trouble by halsey
> 
> EDIT 9/17/18: thank u so much for 666 kudos aaah i never expected this much love for my fic uwu love u guys

* * *

  
For most of Evan's life, they thought he was schizophrenic. They, being his parents, his family, the doctors. Talking to thin air, giggling at the empty corners of the room, crying when he was made to leave his room and actually go to kindergarten.

  
"It's just an imaginary friend," his mother would sigh to his teachers, when Evan would hide away in the far corner of the room, crayon in hand, drawing his best friend, Connor, on every surface available.

  
"They said you're not real," Evan told Connor when he was six. He'd just got home from his first day in first grade, and already the teachers wanted to know why Evan would cry for this strange, unknown boy. Connor sighed, and sat down on the foot of Evan's bed, running a hand through his long, dark hair.

  
"They just can't see me, is all," Connor said, offering a weak smile at the six-year-old, who was staring at him with wide blue eyes.

* * *

  
To begin with, Connor had tried to avoid the little boy when the Hansen family moved into the old townhouse, he really had. When he'd discovered the kid could see him, he'd try to stay invisible, or stay in the walls or attic, but that brat just came looking for him.

Sure, he was a cute kid, all puppy dog eyes and crazy dirty-blond hair, and just wanting someone to play with, but really, how could Connor explain to a four-year old boy that he technically wasn't there? Connor had died years before Evan had even been born - how could he try to tell a child that?

He couldn't, so he tried to keep away, and tried to hide when the little boy came padding up to the attic, pushing his way through the old furniture and junk that had been up there for decades.  
"Helwo?" The little boy would call, before he'd cross his arms, huffing, and throwing himself down on his bottom in a tantrum when Connor wouldn't answer from inside the walls.

Eventually, he started to answer, after one night when he'd been aimlessly floating around the hallways, and heard the light, heart-broken sobs coming from one of the bedrooms.

He'd popped his head in the door to see a little lump of blankets on the bed, shaking, little whimpering noises sounding through the air. Connor knew he should have ignored them, but he couldn't - the kid sounded so broken.  
"Hey," he said, kneeling down at the side of the bed. "Are you okay kid?" Slowly, a little round, red face appeared from under the blankets, a little button nose sniffing.

"You're the boy in the attic." Connor bit his lip and nodded. "Momma... Momma say's you're not real."

Connor sighed, "I'm not."

Evan seemed to think about this, before he sat up on his bed. "Okay," he shrugged.

"Why are you crying?" Connor asked, crossing his legs.

" 'Cause no one likes me," Evan whispered, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Well, uh, I'm sure that's not true," Connor said, his heart breaking slightly.

"It is," Evan sighed. "No one at school wants to play with me. And Momma and Papa are too busy with grown-up stuff to pay attention to me anymore."

Connor nodded, and was silent.

"Will you play with me?" Evan asked, eyes bright and hopeful.

"Aww," Connor said, getting to his feet. "I think I'm a little too old to play with you, kid..." A little too old, and a little too dead... Connor told himself.

Evan had pouted, and Connor had fought the urge to pinch his little chubby cheeks, before he'd flitted out of the room. After that, he couldn't get rid of him. Wherever he turned, he'd had the kid at his heels, asking him stupid questions like, "Why can't Momma see you?", "Why can't I walk through walls?" and "Do you think Superman could beat up Batman?"

Really, Connor thought one night after he'd finally managed to get Evan to stay in his bed, this was not how he'd imagined spending his afterlife. Sure, he knew being a dead nineteen year old boy was never going to be fun, but having a toddler running after him constantly was getting a bit weird. He couldn't lie though, it was nice at times, the company.

Sure, Evan's attention span lasted the whole of five minutes before he was running off and wanting Connor to play pirates in the backyard again. But it was nice, having someone to talk to, after being alone for like, what? Ten years? Something like that. He never could keep track of the time, not after his family moved away. Connor had been a bit broken that he couldn't go with them, but he couldn't blame them, not really - who would want to stay in the house where their only son had died?

So he made do - he'd play with Evan, only visible to the little boy and play hide and go seek, or superheroes, or walk-the-plank. He'd sit at the bottom of his bed, and listen to all the madcap stories the kid would make up in his head. When Evan's parents would fight, and the little boy was crying in his bed, Connor would float-sit on his bed side table, and tell him all about the time he went to the zoo and helped the penguins escape.

* * *

 

When Evan was thirteen, he'd learned to stop talking about Connor. He'd nod when his psychiatrist told him the odd boy he spoke of was all in his head, making up for a friendless childhood.

Evan would come home after his sessions, smile for his mom, eat his dinner, study at the coffee table, then disappear off to the attic, to find Connor floating around on the ceiling somewhere.

"You're dead." Evan said one day after he'd returned from school.

"No shit, Sherlock," Connor laughed, floating down from the rafters of the attic.

"No, but like, you died."

Connor nodded. "Yeah, that's the whole point."

Evan shook his head. "The kids in school said you were murdered in this house."

Connor froze where he was. "What?"

Evan nodded, and plonked himself down in the big dusty armchair in the corner. "Jared Kleinman said you were murdered in the basement."

If Connor were alive, he'd be gasping for air.

"What happened?" Evan asked in a casual tone.

Connor shook his head. He really didn't want to talk about it.

"The kids in school said their parents wouldn't tell them, that it was too horrible to talk about."

It was, Connor thought, feeling nauseous. Could ghosts even feel nauseous? He did. He was getting flashes now, behind his eyes. He hated those fucking memories. Why did Evan have to go and-

"They kept saying the house was haunted, and the ghost wanted revenge, which is stupid, because you're my friend, and it couldn't have been that bad," Evan was going on. "I mean, you look fine to me."

Connor's eyes were screwed shut, his form wavering, blurring around the edges.

"So what happened?"

Connor shook his head.

"Come on, Connor," Evan practically laughed.

Connor couldn't believe how casual Evan was being about this. This was his death they were talking about. Sure, Evan was still a kid, but come on. Evan was still goading him, when Connor snapped.  
He hasn't meant to scare Evan, not really. He couldn't control it.

The old creaky shutters on the attic window flew open and closed at a rapid speed, the noise deafening. Papers and boxes, piled high in the corners of the attic came crashing to ground. The air grew icy cold, so cold that Evan could see his own breath.

"Get. Out." Connor growled, trying to control the overwhelming feeling in his midsection.

"Connor..." Evan's voice shook, walking backwards, arm outstretched, searching for the handle to the door. "Connor... you're scaring me..." He said, eyes on the rafters of the attic ceiling, shaking in their place.

"Get out." Connor repeated, his form blurring so furiously, Evan stumbled as he fumbled for the door handle, slamming the door closed behind him, running for his room.

Later that night, Connor found himself wandering the halls of the old house again. He felt guilty, really. He hadn't meant to scare Evan, he'd just been upset. He poked his head through Evan's wall, biting his lip upon seeing the teenage boy sat cross-legged on his bed, staring at his hands in his lap.

"Evan?"

Evan looked up, eyes wide. Connor sighed, and floated in. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't...I didn't mean to scare you..."

Evan watched him hover above the bed, legs crossed in the same way.

"I didn't...I just...I've never spoke about it, okay?"

Evan stared at him for a moment longer, before he nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

Connor nodded. "You're the only person I've ever spoken to. I don't know how to talk about it."

Evan cocked his head slightly. "It was bad, wasn't it?"

Connor sighed, and closed his eyes. "Yeah, it was."

They were silent for a few seconds, before Connor heard Evan move and opened his eyes. The younger boy was standing on his bed, so that his face was level with Connor's. His arm was out stretched, hand in a cupping position, just a centimeter from Connor's face.

"It's, uh- it's okay," Evan said, eyes soft. "You don't have to tell me."

At that moment, Connor had never longed for a human touch so much in his whole existence.

* * *

 

Evan was sixteen the first time he came home with a busted lip.

"What happened?" Connor raged, the curtains blowing wildly as Evan threw his backpack in the corner of his room.

The boy shrugged. "Just some assholes. It's nothing."

"What?! They beat you up?" Connor yelled.

"Geez, stop yelling at me, you're making it cold," Evan said, rubbing at his arms.

Connor sighed, and settled down, sitting on the foot of the bed, watching Evan pull a handkerchief out of his sock drawer to pat at his lip. "They were just messing with me, Connor, it's okay."

"You don't deserve that," Connor said quietly.

Evan gave a sarcastic laugh. "I'm the weird tree fag kid with an imaginary friend and anxiety, they seem to think I deserve it."

Connor shook his head, staring at the floor. "Don't call yourself that."

Evan scoffed. "Why not? It's what everyone else does" Evan threw himself down on the bed, eyes closed. "Connor?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish you were alive." He spread his hand out on the bed, right through Connor's leg, a visible shiver running down his spine.

"Oh yeah?"

Evan gave a small laugh. "Yeah. Then I'd be okay."

"You are okay, Evan."

Evan sighed, and leaned up on his elbows. "I'd take you to prom."

Connor blinked at him. "Huh?"  
"If you were alive. I'd take you to prom. That'd show 'em."

At that he fell back on the bed, eyes closed, breathing steady. Connor stared down at him, confused, before he eventually walked off, into the wall.

* * *

 

"Evan, do you remember that imaginary friend you had?" His friend- his only friend, Jared, asked over Evan's kitchen table where they were working on a lit project.

Evan almost choked on his water, looking over at his friend. "Uh, yeah?" He replied, eyes falling on the wall by the refrigerator, where Connor's head had just appeared.

"Well, this kid in my physics class, his mom told him that some kid was murdered in this house!" The excitement in Jared's voice was almost too morbid.

"Oh." Evan replied, eyes falling from Connor's face.

"Yeah!" Jared said gleefully. "They found his body all cut up in pieces in the basement. How cool is that?!"

Evan stared blankly at a picture of William Shakespeare.  
"Yeah, cool..."

* * *

"My family was out," Connor said, eyes on the ceiling.

"What?" Evan said, closing the door to the attic behind him.

Connor sighed, floating down slightly, almost at the height of the arm-chair Evan was settling into.

"My family was out, at my aunts for some thing I can't even remember now." He chuckled to himself, "I told them I'd be fine for the night."

Evan nodded, eyes on Connor's face.  
"They just showed up, these two guys. I'd never seen them before. I tried to stop them, but they just...the just walked in. I tried to call the cops, but I couldn't." He paused for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. "The took me down tot he basement, and just tied me up. I thought they were just gonna rob the place, and leave me there."

"But they- they didn't." Evan breathed, barely blinking, eyes still on Connor.

Connor shook his head, and leaned into a sitting position, coming to rest on the floor near Evan's feet. "They...hurt me. Like...it...I-I only thought things like that happened in movies...to _girls_..."

Evan stared at him for a few seconds, before his eyes widened in realization, jaw dropping slightly. "They...they raped you?"

Connor stared at the floor, nodding. "I just...I never...I don't think anyone really knew..." He gave a sigh. "They cut me up pretty bad. My whole throat was gone...my body was destroyed..."

They were silent for a few minutes before Connor looked up. Evan was staring at him, his rosy cheeks tear-streaked. When Connor opened his mouth to speak again, Evan shook his head, screwing his eyes closed. He slid off the chair onto his knees, right in front of Connor.

"Connor," he let out a small sob.

"Hey," Connor smiled sadly. "It's okay." He reached out a hand, but froze in the air. What was the use? Evan noticed, and scooted forward slightly. His knees pressed through Connor's, the ice-cold feeling giving him goosebumps.

"I wish I could touch you," Evan whispered, shining eyes meeting Connor's. He raised his hand like he'd done before, just a centimeter from Connor's face.

"I'd, uh- I'd kiss you." He said, closing his eyes, hand suspended in mid-air.

"Evan..." Connor said in a whisper. "Don't say things like that, please"

Evan opened his eyes, and brought his hand back to rub at his face. "Can't help it," he said, giving a shaky laugh. "I love you too much."

At that he got to his feet and walked to the small attic door, leaving Connor staring at the empty space.

* * *

Connor was in the walls. He didn't know what it was, but he liked being in the walls. It so almost comforting, the closed in spaces - something he would have had a panic attack over in life.

He was just about to pop out of Evan's wall when he heard the noises. He paused, ear against the wall. Evan's breathing sounded strange. It was short, erratic.

Oh.

Connor stepped back slightly. He'd managed to avoid showing up in Evan's room during these 'moments'. That would be awkward now, wouldn't it? He was just about to move off in the direction of the storage room, to mess about with his dad's old CD collection that he left with Evan and his mom when he heard it.

"Connor..."

He froze on the spot.

No. No way. Nu uh.

He stepped closed to the wall again, knowing damn well he shouldn't be listening.

"Uh...nngh....Connor- fuck"

Connor slowly pushed his head through the wall, blurring his image, almost invisible.

Fuck.

The knot in his non-existent stomach was so tight, he could have vomited. He quickly pulled back into the wall, appearing back in his attic as fast as he could, the image of Evan on his bed, pants around his thighs, cock in his hand, burning in his mind.

* * *

 

He knew he shouldn't be doing it, really.  
It was wrong, on so many levels.

For one, he was dead. Secondly, Evan was alive. Alive, and sixteen. Connor was dead, and nineteen. This was wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

However, as wrong as he knew it was, he still found himself peeking on Evan, every time he heard those noises, those erratic gasps for breath. He couldn't help it. He was mesmerized. He wasn't sure what it was. Sure, Evan was attractive-

Fuck, he was more than attractive, but Connor tried hard not to think about that.

He was his only friend, the only person that could even see him. His only connection with life. This was so wrong.

* * *

 

It was on Evan's seventeenth birthday that Connor got caught out. There had been some kind of party, a few family friends that Connor had never heard of, family members from out of town.

Connor had stayed in the attic, not wanting to intrude, in somewhat of a huff. He'd wandered down just after midnight, when everyone was gone, and paused inside the wall, hearing Evan's panting breaths.

"Connor..." Evan whispered. Connor bit his lip, the name sounding so familiar in that tone.

"I know you're there..." Connor felt a panic rise in him.

"Connor...please..." Connor didn't know what to do. He stayed still, hidden in the wall, behind the large Nine Inch Nails poster he'd convinced Evan to order online.

"Connor...I know you can hear me...please...I just...fuck..." It was almost too much. Connor slowly slid out from the wall, his non-existent heart beating wildly in his chest as his eyes fell on Evan's form, lying flat back on the bed, pajama pants pushed around his thighs, hand moving slowly, up and down his cock.

"Evan, I-"

"C'mere." Evan panted.

Connor gulped, completely unsure of what to do. He slowly stepped over to the bed, not quite sure where his eyes should go.

"I just...I need..." Evan had one hand out, trying to grab him, sliding right through.

"Evan...I can't...I should-"

"No... please... Con-"

Connor bit his lip, eyes on Evan's, baring into him.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was climbing on top of Evan, through him. He sat in a straddling position, Evan's moving hand moving up and through Connor's crotch.

"Fuck..." Evan moaned, his hips jutting slightly. "You're so cold..." Connor reached a hand out, sliding it down the side of Evan's face slowly, noticing the way he shuddered, goosebumps on his arms.

"I wish I could feel you," Evan panted, his hand now pumping faster and faster. "I know you watch me...I've seen you...I wish...I want to...fuck...I need to touch you..." Connor bit his lip, wishing for nothing more than what Evan was asking.

When Evan came, Connor didn't feel anything. He rolled off and into the empty space next to the panting teenager. He stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, unsure what to say. As it turned out, Evan spoke first.

"M'sorry," he whispered, pulling his pants up and wiping his hand on his sheets. "I didn't..."

Connor shook his head. "No...it's...I shouldn't have..."

"If you were alive, would you like me?" Evan asked, eyes closed.

"What?"

"If you were alive...would you want me? Like this?"

Connor turned his head, watching him. Evan's cheeks were red compared to the paleness of his skin. His dirty-blond hair was knotted in such a crazy way it made Connor smile.

"Yeah...uh, I would."

Evan nodded, eyes still closed. He settled his hand through Connor's, ignoring the cold, and gripped the bed sheets.

* * *

 

"Do you have to go?" Connor asked from his position on the toilet seat.

"JESUS CHRIST CONNOR!" Evan yelled, almost tripping over the edge of the bathtub, twisting as he slid, towel wrapped around him. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Connor sighed, and repeated his question. "Do you have to go? I mean...can't you just like, stay home?" He gave a weak smile, and Evan rolled his eyes.

"Connor, it's prom, I have to go." He said sympathetically, reaching through Connor for his boxers. "It's only one night."

Connor sighed, and crossed his legs and arms. As Evan was pulling his undershirt over his head, he turned to look at Connor. He looked miserable.

"Hey," Evan said, kneeling in front of the ghost. "Hey...I won't kiss her, I promise."

Connor ducked his head, hiding his face. "S'okay."

"Hey," Evan said, reaching a hand up, hovering against Connor's form. "Are you _jealous_?"

Connor looked up at him, screwing up his face. "No."

"You are," Evan grinned.

"Whatever," Connor muttered, falling backwards through the wall.

When Evan was getting into his car, corsage in his hand, he looked up towards the attic window, ignoring the strange look from his mother, and blew a small kiss.

When Evan returned home from his senior prom, he couldn't find Connor anywhere. He waited until his mom was sleeping before he tiptoed up to the attic. Connor wasn't there. After he'd made the rounds of all the bedrooms, he figured there was only one place the ghost could be. Evan found him in the furthest corner of the basement, just below the window.

"Connor?"

"I missed my prom."

Evan blinked, before he sat down on the cold concrete next to him.

"I was supposed to go with my fucking sister- how pathetic was that?," the ghost gave a small smile. "She knew I was gay. She was my sister- they just sorta figure that stuff out- you know?"  
Evan nodded, rubbing at his own arms. "I just...I dunno. I wish...I wish I could have gone. With you."

Evan gave a small smile, ducking his head. "Me too."

"I'll never get to dance with you," Connor said, his voice shaking. "I'll never hold your hand. Or kiss you. I'll just... I'll always be here." He ran his hand over the floor. "Right here, in this spot."

Evan's eyes widened, staring at the floor. "Here? This is...this is where you..."  
Connor nodded. "I don't like being down here, Evan."

"Why did you come down then?"

Connor shook his head. "No, I don't like being here. Stuck here. Forever. I'm always gonna be alone."

Evan looked at him. "No, I'm-"

"You're going off to college, Evan. You're leaving, like you should, and you're gonna have a life. You're gonna meet someone, someone real, and I'll just be your old imaginary friend."

Evan shook his head. "I'd never forget you."

"You will, Evan, and I won't blame you. You have so much potential and-" He cut himself off, "And I'll be here."

"No, Connor, please I... Don't talk like that."

"I'll be fine, Evan, don't worry about me" And with that, Connor faded, leaving Evan sitting alone in the cold basement.

* * *

 

When Evan left for college, Connor didn't say goodbye. He watched from the attic window, eyes on the old Chevy as Evan lifted his bags into the trunk. He watched as Evan pulled his mother into an embrace, before he looked towards the old attic window, a sad smile on his face, before he got in the car, and drove away.

* * *

 

It was Christmas when Evan came home from college. Connor saw his car pull up, his mother wrap her arms around him as he climbed out. He didn't look too different, Connor thought. His hair was a little longer, but just as crazy. He had bags under his eyes, and he looked so tired, but it was still Evan. Still Connor's Evan.

It was around midnight when Connor heard the attic door creak open. He was curled up in the old, dusty arm-chair, eyes closed.

"I know you're not asleep," Evan smirked from the door way. "You don't sleep, Connor."

Connor sighed, and turned to look at him. "Hey."

"Hey," Evan smiled, walking over to lean against an old cabinet. "Miss me?"

Connor shrugged.

"Hey, you're not still doing the 'grow up and forget about me' thing now, are you?" Evan said, sliding to sit on the floor.

"Evan, can we not-"

"Connor, deal with it, okay?" Evan smiled. "You're stuck with me."

Connor sighed and nodded. "For now."

* * *

"You know," Evan breathed, staring at his ceiling, face red, naked chest sweating. "I'm a, uh, virgin."

Connor turned his head from the space next to him. "Huh?"

Evan gave a shy smile. "I don't think this," he raised a hand to motion between them. "Would count as sex, really."

Connor watched him as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "What, so...you haven't..."

Evan shook his head. "I wouldn't do that to you."

Connor climbed off the bed. "Evan, I told you, you should-"

"Yeah yeah, forget about you, move on, you're dead, blah, blah, blah," Evan rolled his eyes as Connor floated around the room.

"Whatever, Connor. I told you, I don't care, I love you."

Connor froze in front of the old Nine Inch Nails poster.

"What?"

Evan sighed. "What?"

"Evan, don't say things like that."

Evan gave a small laugh, "What? Why? It's the truth."

"Don't..."

"Connor, you can't stop me from-"

"You can't love me, Evan!" Connor turned on the spot. "For fucks sake! Are you even listening to me? I'M DEAD! I'm not even here! I'm a fucking... I'm an apparition, for crying out loud!"

Evan scrambled to his feet, stepping up in front of Connor. "I don't care, I told you, I just-"

"No, Evan," Connor held up his hands, backing up towards the wall. "This is it. You can't...you can't go on like this, it isn't healthy..."

"Isn't healthy? What, so now you think I'm insane too, huh?"

"This doesn't work out, Evan. It can't. You need to...you need to leave me...just forget about this, okay? You're only nineteen-"

"So are you!"

"I was nineteen, Evan. I'm always gonna be nineteen. You're not."

"What?" Evan said, voice shaking. "So I just, pretend you're not here? Connor, you're stuck in my house..."

"Evan..."

"So I just agree with them all, do I? Just pretend you don't exist?"

"Yes," Connor's voice was barely a whisper.

Evan stared at him, his eyes sparkling, running his hands through his hair. He shook his head, before he grabbed a pair of pants from his floor.

"What're you doing Evan?" Connor asked, eyes downcast.

"I need a drink," Evan muttered, pulling on a shirt. "And who knows!" He sounded almost hysterical. "Maybe I'll meet someone when I'm out!"

"Evan, I-"

"Oh no, that's what you want, isn't it?" Evan stepped in front of Connor again. "Isn't it, Connor? You want me to move on, right? Is that what you want? Me to bring people home, like every other fucking college kid out there?"

"Evan..."

"Fuck you, Connor." At like that, he was gone, bedroom door slamming behind him.

Connor was in the basement when he heard the noises. The voices. He creeped up and into the hallway, just in time to see Evan stumbling up the staircase, hand in hand with some guy who he vaguely recognized until he realized it was the same guy who started the conversation about how he died- Jared something-or-other.

He felt sick to his stomach and he tried to hide but it didn't matter where he went, the now empty storage room, the kitchen, the basement. He could hear them- could feel them, Evan's moans, the creaking of the bed. Never in his whole existence, had Connor ever wished he didn't exist, as much as he did that night.

* * *

 

Evan was crying. Connor could hear him from the storage room. He tried to ignore it, as much as he could, but it was no use.

"It's okay," Connor said, sliding through the door. Evan didn't look up from his curled up position on the bed. He was shaking, arms wrapped around himself. He shook his head, eyes screwed shut as tears slid down his cheeks.

"No, it's not."

"Evan, you're-"

"I'm not supposed to do things like that," Evan whispered.

"Stop saying that. I shouldn't do things like that." Connor sighed, his insides twisting. He knelt at the side of the bed, a hand outstretched, ghosting over Evan's cheek. Evan sucked in a breath at the cold touch.

"I wished it was you." He whimpered, pressing his face against the bed. "I just...I just wanted it to be you."

"I'm sorry, Evan. It can't be me. It'll never be me."

Evan tightened his grip on himself as he pressed his face hard against the mattress, sobs shaking his body.

* * *

 

Evan didn't say goodbye when he left the next day. He just packed up this things and left, his puzzled mother standing in the empty driveway, watching him drive away. Connor curled in on himself, in the center of Evan's bed, just begging to be on any plane but this one.

* * *

 

Evan was twenty the next time he came home. Connor was surprised, if he was honest. He'd been floating around in the attic when he heard the car pull up in the drive way. When Evan stepped out into the drive way, Connor was speechless. It was Evan, alright. He was older, but still Evan.

He didn't look towards the attic window

* * *

 

Evan had been home two weeks before he acknowledged Connor. Connor was in the attic, as always, when Evan creeped up.

"Don't exist, huh?" He said, eyes on the ghost, sitting in the rafters. "For someone who doesn't exist, you sure do make a habit of appearing outside my room at night."

Connor didn't answer, keeping his eyes on the roof. "I graduated early," Evan continued, throwing himself down, choking on the dust as it flew around him. "They want me to go down to Brazil, help with the deforestation issue down there. God, Connor..."

Connor nodded, eyes closed. Evan looked up at him, and sighed.

"Listen Connor, I'm not here to... whatever." He shook his head and got to his feet. "I just...I just wanted to say hi." He turned and made his way out the room, leaving the ghost boy sitting in the rafters, arms wrapped around his wavering form.

* * *

 

Evan didn't come to see him anymore. It hurt. It really hurt. But he was only doing as Connor had asked. So instead, Connor found himself wandering the halls at night when everyone was asleep, pausing outside Evan's door for moments at a time, or watching him from his walls.

* * *

 

It was late one night, when Evan came home from a bar. He was drunk, stumbling around as he made his way into the kitchen. He was muttering to himself, as he pulled another beer from the fridge. Connor was sitting on top of the fridge, his form almost invisible.

"Connor," Evan was muttering, crashing off the counter, falling onto the floor. "Fucking...fuckin'...ghosts...stupid..."

Connor watched as he fell asleep, something in his stomach not quite feeling right. When Evan started to convulse, Connor knew what was happening. He didn't know what to do. He tried his best to make as much noise as he could. He made the cutlery crash around in the drawers, the Crocker smash from the counters. When Evan's mother ran into the kitchen, Connor stepped back, watching as she cried, trying to hold Evan as still as possible while she tried to dial 911 with shaky hands on her cell.

Connor felt something break inside. He stepped forward, on the opposite side of Ms. Hansen, crouching down to stoke Evan's cheek.

"Hey," he whispered. "It's okay...I'm here...it's okay..." He slid his hand down, wrapping it around Evan's wrist. With a small tug, he pulled Evan to his feet.

"Connor?" Evan's eyes were wide.

"I'm sorry," Connor said sadly, looking towards the floor. Evan stared at him, before he followed his line of sight. Connor knew it wasn't easy, looking at your own body. He could feel Evan shaking in his grasp.

"I'm dying," Evan whispered, eyes on his mother, cradling his shaking body.

"You're already dead," Connor muttered. "The last of your life is ebbing away, I'm so, so, sorry Evan I didn't-"

Evan turned to look at Connor, then down to his wrist.

"You...you're touching me."

Connor looked down. "Huh. So I am." They looked at each other for a few seconds, before Evan jumped at his mother's scream.

"I can't...I don't..." He couldn't finish the sentence, eyes on his mother, rocking back and forward, his head in her lap.

"Come on," Connor said, pulled him towards the wall. "You don't want to see this." Visions of his own sister, screaming, falling to her knees, circled in his mind.

No.

Evan didn't want to see this.

* * *

 

"I'm dead." Evan stated, sitting on the edge of his bed. Connor nodded, kneeling in front of him.

"I'm sorry...I tried...they didn't get there in time...you started to choke..."

Evan shook his head, reaching out his hand. He cupped Connor's cheek, and gave a shaky laugh. "I can touch you."

Connor smiled sadly. "I'm sorry."

Evan shook his head and leaned forward, hand sliding into Connor's hair, bringing their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry, Evan." Connor whispered, eyes closed. "I never wanted this... I never-"

"It's okay..." Evan mumbled, bringing their mouths together. A few seconds later, he pulled back, eyes on Connor's. "We're here forever, aren't we?"

Connor nodded, bringing a hand up to touch his lips. He'd been kissed. He couldn't believe it.

Evan sighed, and smiled. "I can touch you."

He took Connor by the shoulders, and pulled him up onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him.

"Evan, I-"

"Can we not talk?" Evan asked, closing his eyes, the sounds of his parent's voices echoing around the old house. "Just...can we let it be just us for now?"

Connor nodded, settling against Evan's chest. They lay in silence, as people came and went, people appearing in the room, tear streaked faces muttering goodbyes. When Evan's father showed up, Connor tightened his grip on Evan, feeling him press closer.

"Never let me go, Connor," Evan whispered, lips against Connor's neck.

"I won't," Connor whispered. "Ever, I promise."

Evan gave a small, sad laugh. "We'll both be boys in the attic, huh?" Connor nodded, smiling against Evan's hair.

"For forever."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading i'd like to apologize to not only my mother but jesus too


End file.
